


Butterfly

by Lotus_Fantasy



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Child Abuse, Codependency, Despair, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Hints of Kiba + Sasuke, Hurt/Comfort, I have a thing for older!Naruto x youger!Sasuke, Kakashi is some sort of hitman, Kidnapping, Like seriously angsty, M/M, Minor Character Death, Naruto and Itachi are best friends, Naruto is the ultimate seme in my opinion, Naruto plays guitar, Nurse!Sakura, Older Naruto, Pain, Palace RV (lol), Reliable!Kiba, Road Trip, Sakura has a kitty because why wouldn't she, Sasuke is the ultimate uke, Teenage Sasuke, my favorite character is Kakashi, no really, these tags are ridiculous, this is angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-05-30 21:39:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15105383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lotus_Fantasy/pseuds/Lotus_Fantasy
Summary: Sasuke's  left eye was swollen shut, a mass of purple bruises surrounding an abrasion just below his eye. His lower lip was split, and there were hand-shaped bruises around his neck and throat. His ribs had been bound with clean white bandages, and more bruises littered his abdomen and upper arms.“It's never been this bad before. Let me get him outta here, 'Tachi.""Fugaku will tell the police Sasuke was kidnapped. He won't let him go. He really could make things so very much worse.”"Then I'll go somewhere he can't find us," Naruto declared.





	1. Codependent

Note: Reposted from my ff.net page. This has been majorly edited because I've improved a great deal as a writer. As such, I will take requests for content. ^_~

* * *

**Chapter 1: Codependent**

 

 

It was strange how much bigger his father appeared when Sasuke’s vantage was flat on his back on the floor. Uchiha Fugaku was a tall, broad-shouldered man standing toe-to-toe with him. Towering over his prone son, the man looked twice as large. Especially with irrational anger darkening his countenance and making his eyes bulge in their sockets. Sasuke wished he had enough strength in and control of his limbs to crawl away. To do anything except lie there and watch the blow descend on him.

There were words of rage, but Sasuke couldn't hear them. His pulse pounded too loudly in his ears, a roaring that drowned out everything else. A balled fist struck his face, but he didn’t feel any pain—only the way it jarred him. His whole body was numb. Cold, paralyzed, and numb.

Blood pooled in his eye. The sensation was new, and it stung. He closed his eyes, mind drifting perilously close to oblivion. He felt the impression of another blow, this one to the stomach. A kick, he thought vaguely as he felt something snap out of place. A broken bone, maybe. It made him retch, and the taste of hot iron bubbled up in his throat and was forcefully expelled by another kick. Puking blood. That was new, too.

He thought it should alarm him. This was probably the most precarious position he’d ever been in. These bouts of his father’s anger didn’t usually last this long, and they weren’t usually this violent. Sasuke’s thoughts didn’t usually wander this much. _Dangerous,_ his mind whispered. It was dangerous to allow his thoughts to drift away like this. If he didn’t pay attention, this might get worse.

Such as, maybe his father would think Sasuke was ignoring him. The only thing worse than Fugaku’s temper was when anger turned to panic. That, that was worse. Knowing that in his cerebral mind did nothing to help his awareness to return, and dimly he wondered if he would black out.

The blows stopped. It took monumental effort, but Sasuke levered open his good eye, the one not slowly swelling shut. Someone else had entered the fray, the elder of Fugaku’s two sons dragging their father away from Sasuke in a sort of wrestler's hold. Itachi looked livid, angrier even than their father. His mouth moved furiously, but Sasuke’s hearing hadn’t yet returned. He closed his eye again, because it was too hard to keep it open.

A door slammed so loudly that it pierced the rushing in Sasuke's ears. The sensation of being lifted caught him unawares and completely nauseated him. He threw up again, and he opened a bleary eye to see blood all over the front of Itachi's crisp, white button-down. It should have made him feel guilty; the shirt was probably expensive. Instead, the stark contrast of crimson on white fascinated him.

Next thing he knew he was on the bathroom floor, and the realization disoriented him. When had that happened? He could feel a soft, wet cloth dabbing at his face. It hurt. Seemed he could feel things again. The numbness was better. Groaning, he tried to turn away and deny the touch.

"Shh, don't move around, _otouto_ ," Itachi murmured, his brother's voice close to his ear.

And now he could hear again. He wanted to ask his brother where their father had gone, but he didn’t dare open his mouth. The taste of blood and bile on his tongue was making him sick again. He started dry heaving, and then he was laying face-down on the cool tile with a hand rubbing up and down on his naked back. When had he lost his shirt?

"Easy, Sasuke," Itachi soothed. "It's all right. Calm down."

It took a bit of time, but presently his body obeyed. His heart rate slowed, his breathing eased. Itachi manhandled him more or less upright, and he felt glass touch his lips.

"Rinse and spit it out," Itachi instructed, his voice so calm. "Don't swallow any of it."

The water tasted strange, sort of salty. He obeyed his brother again and didn't swallow, spiting out mostly red. It helped remove the taste of bile. Then Itachi propped him up against his chest and resumed with the cloth.

Reality faded out for a while. When he finally regained his senses, everything was quiet and the lights dim. Itachi's room, he realized after a moment. The only illumination came from the bedside lamp, the elder brother reading by its soft glow. He’d lain Sasuke between his legs, the younger’s head pillowed on his thigh.

A well-protectedposition, allowing Sasuke to relax. Experience had taught him that only his brother’s presence could shelter him from Fugaku during his fits of rage. The role of shield was one Itachi played more and more frequently this past year as Fugaku’s mood swings grew ever more unpredictable.

Though still too weak to sit up, Sasuke nonetheless felt better than earlier. __I must’ve been out of it for a long time. It's dark outside__ _._ He swallowed and nearly started coughing at the dryness in his throat.

" _Aniki_ ," he croaked.

Itachi set the book aside immediately, settling a warm hand atop Sasuke’s ebon hair. "What is it, _otouto_? Do you need something?"

Sasuke nodded, licking cracked lips. "Thirsty," he managed.

"I'll get you some water," the elder brother said, easing himself out from under the younger. He replaced his thigh with an actual pillow under Sasuke’s head.

The motion made Sasuke painfully aware of his chest. He could feel constrictive binding and knew his ribs had to have been either cracked or broken. To call it painful didn’t suffice, and he wished desperately for something to distract himself. The pillow felt feather soft beneath his head, and he breathed deeply of Itachi's scent. It helped a little. He had very few comforts in this world, and his brother was one.

When Itachi came back with a bottle of water, sitting up enough to drink nearly sent Sasuke down into darkness.

"I have a friend in the police," Itachi said, rubbing a hand up and down Sasuke's back, “and he arrested Father. I have no idea how long that will last, but at least you’re safe for now.”

 _Safe?_ “Father isn’t dangerous,” Sasuke coughed. His ribs screamed in protest. “He was just upset.” _It would’ve passed. It always does._

Itachi’s eyes lit up with anger, like they always did when Sasuke defended their father. _You don’t understand,_ the elder always insisted. In actuality, it was the other way around. Itachi was the one who didn’t understand. He knew nothing. He had no idea. Whatever his brother might have said was forestalled when downstairs, the door banged open.

"Itachi!" a familiar voice yelled, and feet thundered up the stairs.

"In here," Itachi called, easing Sasuke back down on the bed.

"I just got your text,” the intruder panted, bursting into the room. “That son of a bitch was finally arrested?”

Under normal circumstances, it would have horrified Sasuke to think of anyone seeing him like this. At this precise moment, he was too tired and hurting to care. Even if it was Itachi's best friend, a loud-mouthed __baka__ with the idiotic name Uzumaki Naruto. Though he was the same age as Itachi, he acted many years younger a lot of the time. He was another of the aforementioned comforts.

"Yeah," Itachi confirmed, brushing black bangs off Sasuke's forehead, "but it probably won't last. My friend said that unless I take Sasuke to the hospital, they probably can't hold Fugaku.” His hand stroked feather-light through Sasuke’s hair, and it felt nice. “I can’t bring myself to do that. Not when he hates hospitals so much.”

The bed dipped under Naruto's weight as the golden-haired man sat. "He looks terrible, 'Tachi."

Sasuke didn't have the energy to demand they stop talking about him like he wasn't right there.

"You know that bastard's gonna be livid when they release him," Naruto said quietly.

"I know," came Itachi's grave reply.

"He's gonna take his anger out on Sasuke, like he always does."

"I know."

A heavy sigh. "It’s never been this bad before.” A short pause. “Let me get him outta here, 'Tachi."

Those words restored a little of Sasuke’s strength. "What the hell does that mean, __dobe__?" Itachi had scolded him many times for giving Naruto such a disrespectful nickname as _dead last,_ but honestly. Naruto was dead last in his class freshman year of high school.

Naruto snorted. "It finally speaks, and it’s a criticism.”

"Fugaku will tell the police Sasuke was kidnapped," Itachi said, ignoring his younger brother’s comment and Naruto’s rejoinder. "He won't let him go. He really could make things so very much worse.”

"Then I'll go somewhere he can't find us," Naruto declared.

"I'm not going anywhere," Sasuke snapped, or at least he hoped he did. His tongue felt thick and leaden.

Naruto obviously heard. "Why the hell do you insist on staying with the bastard?" he demanded, leveling Sasuke with a vexed glare. "All he does is hurt you."

Sasuke mutely shook his head, denying the assertion. It wasn't true. His father may lose his temper sometimes, but those moments of violence didn’t outnumber the times when it was with tenderness Fugaku embraced his son. Crushed him to his breast as though he planned never to let go, whispering,

 _“_ _I love you, Sasuke. So much like your mother. You’re all I have left of her. Don’t leave me like she did, it would kill me. You’re so precious to me.”_

How could Sasuke explain those pleading words hurt so, so much worse than any physical blow? That he would cling to his father just as tightly, reduced to crying like a girl, while Fugaku rocked him and kissed his tears away? His father needed him. Anyone could see that.

A small voice in the far back of his mind whispered, _Dangerous. That attitude is dangerous._ But it was faint and distant and he was too drained to listen.

"He needs me," he mumbled.

"What he needs is someone to bash his fucking head in," Naruto growled. "Itachi—"

"I'm sorry, Naruto," Itachi cut him off. "This isn't the best time to talk about this. Would you mind grabbing my guitar? He loves hearing you play. It'd probably help him sleep."

The soothing sensation of Itachi stroking his hair was helping a lot, too, Sasuke thought muzzily. He heard some rustling around, the pleasant sound of Naruto tuning the guitar. Then those talented fingers were picking at the instrument's strings. Sasuke couldn't name the tune, but the melody was sweet and comforting. The random notes made it impossible to concentrate, lulling him and making his body feel like it was sinking into the bed.

He fell asleep to the feeling of a soft kiss pressed to his cheek.

**o0o**

Even after Sasuke fell asleep, Naruto didn't stop his plucking. The continuation of notes would drown out their voices. "Itachi," he said again, low and forceful.

Itachi didn't stop stroking Sasuke's hair. He and Naruto had been best friends since they were just ten, but his troubled expression was one the blonde man didn’t recognize. His dark eyes traveled over his little brother’s face, and his lips curled in a grimace.

Not that his dismay was surprising. Sasuke often sported bruises and small scratches. This, however, was worse than ever before. His left eye was swollen shut, a mass of purple bruises surrounding an abrasion just below his eye. His lower lip was split, and there were hand-shaped bruises around his neck and throat. His ribs had been bound with clean white bandages, and more bruises littered his abdomen and upper arms.

"I really didn’t want to do anything Sasuke would hate," Itachi said quietly, "but I can't. I can no longer watch that man hurt my little brother in his sick, twisted grief.” He took a slow, deep breath and appeared to steel himself. “I want you to take him, Naruto."

Naruto struck a sour note and winced, re-positioning his fingers. "What do you mean?" he asked carefully, willing himself not to get his hopes up.

"Take him out of Tokyo. Hell, out of Japan. Get him away from that man. I doubt Sasuke will ever agree to leave, he no longer has a sense of self-preservation. He and that man . . . they've developed a kind of codependency." He moved away from the bed and raked fingers through his disheveled hair. "I'll give you enough money to go wherever you want and last as long as you need.”

Naruto raised an eyebrow. "Like I'd accept that, you dick."

Itachi turned to him, black eyes glacial. "It's not a gift, idiot. It's wage. For being his caretaker. These wounds won't heal overnight. I'm reimbursing you for the cost of his care."

Though that was just another way of wording the same damn thing, Naruto gave up the resistance. He didn't have enough money to get very far, and Itachi was right. Sasuke would need a lot of round-the-clock care. So he swallowed his pride and broke into a grin.

"Could be fun. Sakura and Kiba and I have been talking for a long time about flying to the US and going on a road trip. Maybe it's finally time we got ourselves a fancy-ass RV and hit the road."

The mention of their other closest friends brought a slight smile to Itachi’s lips as he got up, digging around in his closet. He came up with a laptop and set it down on his desk. "Don't stop playing,” he said as he booted it up. “I have a credit card I opened under a false name about a year ago. I set it up in case I ever had the courage to get Sasuke out of here myself.” His expression soured. “I’m a bigger coward than I ever imagined.”

Naruto wished he had something handy to throw at his friend. Or that he was close enough to reach over and slug him in the arm. “You might be a lot of things, ‘Tachi, but _coward_ isn’t one of them. Maybe a little daft on occasion.”

That brought dark brown eyes up to meet sky-blue, and Itachi’s grin was a touch rueful. He didn’t deny the words. “The card’s under the name Cameron Reid,” he said. “I’ll have an ID made for you so you can use it without any trouble.”

"That name ain't Japanese."

"So much the better. You look like a foreigner anyway. I’ll charter a private flight and pay in cash so my father can't trace the transaction to me. I doubt he'd accuse me of having anything to do with Sasuke's disappearance, but I won't take any chances. We’ll have to administer some sort of sedative to my brother, but it should only take me a day to procure one.”

"You've been thinking about this for this for a while now, haven't you?" Naruto asked, not entirely surprised. “Why haven’t you just . . . gone?”

By the look on his face, Itachi wasn’t entirely sure himself. He leaned back in his chair, head tipping until he was staring at the ceiling. “Foolish hope?” he mused. “Holding onto the possibility things would get better? Deluding myself into believing they weren’t that bad?” He reached up and covered his face with both hands. “You must think I’m a fucking moron.”

He so seldom cursed, the profanity caught Naruto off guard. He barked a small laugh. “Kinda. But it ain’t like I blame you for any of this. It’s all on that bastard, not you. Besides, he’s the wealthiest man in Japan and could pull all the right strings if you ever tried to fight him for custody. Oh, and there’s the whole, Sasuke _is_ still a minor, so taking him out of the country without Fugaku’s permission is felony kidnapping.”

Itachi’s hands dropped, and he gazed at Naruto with a somber expression. “It is,” he agreed. “I’m aware of the enormity of what I'm asking.”

Naruto shook his head. “You don’t need to ask. Of course I’ll do it. I’m just not sure why you’re not coming with me.”

Something pained entered his best friend’s eyes. “I want to, but I think it would be better if I stay behind. At least for now. I can keep him off your trail.”

The reality of it all began to settle in. Naruto plucked a few more notes on the guitar’s strings, then stopped and tucked the instrument back into its case. "I'll call you tomorrow."

Itachi nodded, and he didn’t say anything until the blonde reached the bedroom door. " _Arigatou_ , Naruto."

Naruto hesitated, glancing over his shoulder. “I’da done this a year ago if you’d let me.” He didn’t mean for it, but the words sounded the slightest bit accusatory. He grasped the doorknob and pushed.

The soft words followed him out, “I know.”

* * *

 

Translation notes

 _Otouto_ : little brother

 _Aniki:_ slang for big brother

 _Arigatou_ : thank you


	2. Desperate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For my ff.net readers, this is content I didn't write before. Explores a bit more of what else happened that night.

“I can only hold him for forty-eight hours,” Deidara warned.

Itachi pinched the bridge of his nose, thinking about all the things he needed to do. “That’s not enough time. I think I could work with seventy-two.”

The voice on the other line heaved a sigh. “It doesn’t work like that. I can only hold someone forty-eight hours without charging them. And unless you’re going to officially press charges against your father, I can’t charge him with anything. Which means, after forty-eight hours I have to release him.”

Itachi winced. “Then I guess I have a lot of work to do. Thanks, Dei.”

“You bet. I’d do anything for you, ya know?”

A half-grin. “I do.” He swiped _end call_ and stood up, beginning to pace. It was nine o’clock, and Fugaku had been arrested at half past four. _I have forty-three-and-a-half more hours to_ _put_ _everything together._ Lifting his wrist, he started a countdown on his smart watch.

Then he wasted a precious forty seconds trying to decide where to start. His eyes swept all around his large bedroom, landing finally on the queen bed where Sasuke slept. His little brother was pale and still, and even in his sleep his breathing sounded pained. Snatching up his cell, Itachi brought up his second main contact. The other end rang a half-dozen times.

“Itachi? You rarely call so late.”

“Sorry, Sakura,” he said, not quite able to help the smile at the sound of her voice. “I have a—well, _favor_ doesn’t quite do it justice. There’s a huge, life-altering thing I need to ask of you.”

A slight pause. “Okay, I've never heard you sound like this. You’re not exactly prone to exaggerating, so it must be serious.”

“It is,” Itachi agreed. “I need you to help Naruto smuggle Sasuke out of Japan.”

It sounded absurd, to say it out loud like that. A cheesy line from an action flick movie. But Sakura didn’t laugh, and it wasn’t like she was unaware of what went on in the Uchiha household. After all, she’d volunteered on more than one occasion to provide expert testimony against Fugaku if Itachi would fight his father for custody of the youngest Uchiha.

“You’re sure?” she said eventually.

Itachi let out a breath he didn’t remember holding. That wasn’t an outright refusal. “I’ve never been more sure of anything. I just need to make sure you’re aware that I'm asking you—”

“To commit felony kidnapping?” she interrupted, and he heard a huff of laughter. “Oh, I’m aware. Are you sure this is the road you wanna take? There _are_ legal avenues, you know.”

“I do,” he agreed, “but I also know I’d never win. I’ve played it through in my head over and over. And you know why I wouldn’t win?”

A pause.

“Because of Sasuke,” Itachi said when she didn’t answer. “He’d refuse to corroborate my story. And when I fail, Fugaku would make sure to get rid of me and then who knows what would happen.”

Her silence lasted a few more moments. “I know that’s how you think it would go,” she began.

“It _is_ how I would go.”

“But are you absolutely sure?” she finished. “This . . . you won’t be able to come back from this, Itachi.” The solemnity of her words didn’t match the gentleness of her tone.

“I’m absolutely sure,” he confirmed.

This time, she didn’t hesitate. “Then I won’t ask again,” she said. “I’ll help you. But I would like to know what prompted this. Specifically, now.”

Finally, he stopped pacing, coming to a halt beside the bed. Easing down so as not to jar its occupant, he reached out with his free hand and lightly brushed a lock of ebony hair off a pale forehead. “I came home early tonight,” he said quietly. “Fugaku had Sasuke on the floor.” He couldn’t bring himself to call that man his father.

Sakura’s voice was soft: “What happened?”

“When I grabbed him,” Itachi said, a slight hitch in the words, “he was kicking Sasuke in the chest and stomach. There was a big puddle of blood on the floor. Sasuke was barely conscious, I don’t think he even realized my friend arrested Fugaku. When I picked him up, he vomited blood all over me.”

She sucked in a sharp breath. “Please tell me you took him to the hospital.”

“No,” Itachi replied after a brief hesitation. He mentally steeled himself for an argument.

After all, she was a medical student. “Why not?” she demanded. “Vomiting blood could be indicative of internal hemorrhaging—”

“I know how serious it is,” Itachi cut her off. “It would have made everything worse. There would’ve been questions, they would have interrogated Sasuke, he would have had an anxiety attack, and—”

Her soft sigh cut him off. “I’m not sure you’re helping anything by being so overprotective, my sweet.”

For several seconds, anger practically blinded him. _So, what? I’m making things worse?_ As quickly as the anger flared, it fizzled out. _Even if that’s not what she meant, it’s true._ “His ribs aren’t broken, but he would benefit from real medical treatment.”

Pregnant silence followed, and Itachi wondered if he’d lost her. Then a long, deliberately slow inhale and exhale. “You’re ridiculous,” she grumbled. “I can’t believe I'm agreeing to help.”

Relief, heavy and numbing, swept over him. “So, you’ll go with Naruto?”

“I believe that’s what I just said.” Her tone was rather dry. “You owe me.”

“More than I could ever repay,” he agreed. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Sakura.”

A snort of laughter. “I don’t, either. When am I helping our sweet blonde dolt commit this crime?”

“I have forty-three hours to get a private flight chartered and everything lined up,” Itachi said. “What I need from you is a way to get Sasuke on that flight without a struggle.”

“Ah, you want me to roofie your little brother?” she mused. “I can find something that will keep him docile but still able to walk. He’ll need help, but he’ll stay upright.”

“That would be perfect.” Itachi paused, momentarily overwhelmed by the enormity of emotion welling up in him. “I don’t know how I’ll ever thank you, Sakura.”

“Me neither,” she teased, “but I'm sure you’ll think of something. Text me Sasuke’s current weight if you have a way to measure it. I want to make sure I get the exact right dose of sedative.”

He nodded before realizing she wouldn’t see it. “I’ll text you in a few minutes.”

“Kay.”

She ended the call, and Itachi practically fell down into his desk chair. It rolled halfway across the floor from the impact. On the bed, Sasuke made a soft sound and shifted. He let out a weak, heart-breaking whimper, and Itachi saw his eyes snap open.

“ _Aniki_?” he gasped.

Itachi was already by the bed. “I’m here,” he murmured, sliding an arm under Sasuke’s shoulders and gently easing him upright. “Let’s go to the bathroom for a second, all right? I’m going to give you a painkiller and clean you up for bed.”

Sasuke’s hands tightly gripped his shirt. “Can’t I . . . sleep in here?”

He only got this vulnerable in moments like these. The rest of the time he was cold and prickly and shut down. “Of course,” Itachi soothed. “But you’ll sleep better if you’re clean and have taken some aspirin.”

Sasuke sort of wilted. “Okay.”

Lifting him was easy. Sasuke hadn’t been a healthy weight in a long time, so he was feather-light. Now it seemed like this would really happen, doubt crept in. _Am I doing the right thing?_ He resisted the urge to squeeze his little brother close. Pressure on his ribs would only hurt him. _No, this is how it has to be. In an ideal world I could do it right. There’s nothing ideal about this_ _situation._

If he had a few years, maybe he would come up with a better solution. He didn’t. Part of him feared what would happen if he waited even a single day. Fugaku’s violence was escalating. If Itachi didn’t get his brother out right now . . .

_Maybe next time, he won’t stop._


End file.
